


A Very, Very Late Kinktober (2018)

by CrusnikRoxas



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Sitting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrusnikRoxas/pseuds/CrusnikRoxas
Summary: ...so yeah. The 31 stories I owe for this year's kinktober! Will...probably not all take place in October as this is...late, but regardless, you guys'll be getting 31 delicious stories ;)I'll be marking each matching/subject at the start of each 'chapter', and updating tags accordingly.Enjoy!~





	A Very, Very Late Kinktober (2018)

**Author's Note:**

> Horrortale Sans x Reader. Kink: Face-sitting. Also some light dom/sub here.  
> Have fun ;D  
> ALSO  
> Happy Birthday @malenchka. Hope that you have a wonderful day, with wonderful things (such as skeleton kinks, woop) - you're a lovely person, and deserve the best ^-^
> 
> Also: have a link to my tumblr! ;) https://crusnikroxas.tumblr.com/

The hole in his skull had always troubled you.

It wasn’t that you found it disgusting, or anything like that – as a matter of fact, you loved everything about him, and had done the second you’d seen him in that remote corner-shop (much to his utter shock at the time). Sure, approaching him and telling him as such had been an utter bitch (his grin had twitched pretty alarmingly, before he’d ultimately fled without a word), but with the help of his energetic brother (who was, admittedly, sometimes unsettling energetic), you’d eventually managed to secure a date with him; and now, here you were, in a happy relationship.

Aside from the fact that the two of you have never been physical.

Well, no, scratch that – you’d shared some pretty heated kisses; but you always pulled away at the last minute, and you could tell that it was worrying him immensely.

But the hole was just…. _there._

You didn’t know where to place your hands. Were you even allowed to touch his face at all? What if you dared to do such a thing, only to end up touching it? Would it hurt him? It looked as if it would hurt him, even if you did catch him every so often scratching away at the wound whenever he was in particularly dark mood. But you didn’t want to ask such questions of him; surely he’d feel uncomfortable when put into that kind of position.

It had already taken him so long to trust you after all, to let in you past those walls he’d built so high – and you didn’t want to ruin that fragile trust.

“...y/n?”

You hum worriedly in answer, instantly drawn out of your well of thoughts by his slightly irritated frown.

“...talk to me.”

Your head quirked, brows pulling together, not quite understanding – well, no, some part of you did, but you really hoped that he wasn’t going to ask-

  


“...you’re hiding something.”

  


He slowly, deliberately lowered himself down to your level on the couch, the singular red orb hanging in his socket pulsing with his rising emotions, grin twitching.

“...you’re going to tell me. n o w.”

You gulped. You weren’t afraid of him, never had been, never would be, but you really didn’t like to see him angry – you preferred to see him happy far better. And what had you gone and done? Gone and pissed him off, that’s what.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“...don’t be. just tell me.”

...well, his grin wasn’t as wide and twitchy any more, that was a fairly good sign.

“I...I...”

His sockets narrowed, his expression calculative as he read every change in your expressions. Suddenly, he grasped your wrist, all but yanking you off the couch and dragging you towards the staircase. You winced, pulling at your arm as his phalanges dug into your tender skin.

“Sans! Where are we-”

“...bedroom.”

“What?!”

He turned on you suddenly, freezing in his dragging walk with an unsettling rigidness, grin turned down at the edges in his displeasure.

“... _b e d r o o m_.”

With that, he turned on his heel, continuing in his almost desperate dragging.

“Uh, yeah, I got that – but _why?_ ”

All you received in reply was the darkest of chuckles, sending a shiver up your spine – his gruff voice never failed to awake things within you that perhaps were best left asleep.

He all but kicks down the door to his bedroom (which was a pity, you were quite fond of those hinges), dragging you in with such a force you trip over your own feet; he lets you go when you do, walking past you and over to his stained mattress with purpose, impatiently ripping off his ragged hoodie and just as ragged shirt as he went. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight – you’d never seen him without it, and to see his bare ribs on show for once?

You were becoming almost shamefully wet.

He froze in his tracks all of a sudden, turning his head with a deathly slowness to look in your direction – before that grin of his spread wider, almost curling at the edges, threatening to split his non-existent cheeks. Keeping that solid, intense eye-contact, he carefully sat on his ‘bed’, edging his way backwards, feet hanging off the edge. He crooked his finger in silent invitation, leaving you to hesitantly approach; before you stop dead in your tracks at his sudden command.

  


“...take off your underwear.”

  


You shudder slightly in reflex, eyes wide, lips parted.

“W-wha-”

“...you heard me, pumpkin. take them off.”

You whine softly in the back of your throat, backing off a step; before all but jumping out of your skin as the door suddenly slams shut with an earth-shattering bang behind you.

“Sans-”

“...no. i’m gonna show you...i’m gonna show you that **t h i s** -”

He gestures angrily to the gaping wound in his skull.

“-isn’t me. you shouldn’t be...scared of it. you’re not scared of anything. don’t be...scared of this.”

You gulped, tears coming to your eyes as you take in his broken words.

“N-no! I’m not….”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, gathering yourself for a moment; he allows you to, watching your every twitch, red orb dilating further depending on the emotions you unknowingly showed on your face.

“...I’m not scared of it, Sans. I just….I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t know if...i-if by touching it, it would hurt. And I didn’t want to ask because-”

“...because you thought that would….hurt me too?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, before chuckling, a softer chuckle than before, warmer.

“...come here.”

It wasn’t a demand this time, more of a request; regardless, you obeyed, approaching the mattress shyly, fidgeting with the hem of your dress as you did so.

He continued to eye you, sending the sweetest of chills creeping over the surface of your skin as his blood-red orb drank in every morsel your body had to offer – it made you feel naked, even though your dress remained hung about your frame.

“...take them off for me.”

“M-my-”

“...yes. take them off, and give them to me.”

Your cheeks redden ten-fold, but you do as he obeys without question; you’d been waiting to be intimate with him for so long, and while...this wasn’t exactly how you pictured it going, you certainly weren’t about to complain. You reach up under your skirts demurely, peeling off the soaking cotton and stepping out of them as daintily as you could muster – you hand them to him, looking away sheepishly. You hear another dark chuckle from him as you do so, clearly not impressed by your actions.

“...look at me.”

You hesitantly drag your eyes back, your gaze locking with his once again as he slowly brings the material of your panties up to his face, clearly inhaling your scent; your eyes widen in shock, mouth dropping open. But he obviously feels no embarrassment, groaning deep in the back of his throat, tongue flicking out to taste the remains of your arousal.

“ _S-Sans-!”_

He ignores you pointedly, sockets closed as his tongue ran along the cotton, soft growls of want echoing from his chest. Then, all of a sudden, his sockets snap back open, almost making you jump. He stared up at you for a moment, his face completely expressionless, before he tossed the article of clothing away into a corner, probably never to be seen again. But before you could begin to whine at such an action (you liked those panties, dammit), he shuffled further back on the bed, beckoning for you to follow.

For a moment, you simply stare, mutely confused – he sighs, his curving smile decidedly impatient.

“...what did you want for dinner, pumpkin?”

  


You pause with a frown, wondering what that had to do with anything.

  


“Um….not sure. Why?”

His grin stretched all the wider as you give him the answer he’d clearly been waiting for, his eye-light throbbing as his magic squirmed and coiled up the flesh of your thighs, yanking you onto the mattress with such a force you didn’t even have time to cry out as you landed against his legs, air puffing out of you.

“...’cause I feel like….. _eatin’ out._ ”

And before you could even think of protesting, his magic had yanked you up even further, his tongue snaking out to lap at your folds long before you finally landed on his face.

You keen, back arching as he groans at your taste, seemingly in just as much ecstasy, phalanges snaking under your skirt to dig into flesh of your thighs. For a moment, you cover your face in embarrassment, body tensing as you realised the position he’d literally placed you in; the teasing tongue at your folds immediately ceased, leaving you to look down in surprise at the incredibly displeased expression of Sans, his phalanges digging all the deeper into your flesh.

“...let me see everything. e v e r y t h i n g.”

You shuddered at his commanding, grating tones, nodding dumbly; but it seemed to satisfy him as he continued, tongue rolling around your clit, stroking over the sensitive nub with such a perfect precision it had you gasping – oh, how you ached to cover your face in embarrassment. But you couldn’t ignore that command. You forced your arms against your sides, gripping your ankles for leverage – an approving, deep hum emanates from him at your actions, leaving you to gasp anew; gods, that vibration of his voice against you was positively _delicious._

But what really sent you into nirvana was when he started to move his tongue lower, lapping at every inch your folds held for him; your thighs tighten around his skull in reflex, causing you to instantly freeze up, body rigid as you look down at him for signs of pain.

He merely sighs, raising a brow bone at you.

“...it doesn’t hurt. at all. just….just want to _t a s t e_ you, pumpkin. please.”

You bite you lips, unwittingly letting out a wanton moan at his words; his grin widens in victory, his sockets closing for a moment as he goes back to appreciating your taste, tongue lapping deeper this time.

You begin to relax into his movements, moaning softly under your breath, earning yourself another appreciative hum from him; which is when you feel another movement, this one from behind you – you turn your head slightly in curiosity, only to be met with the sight of him jacking off to the taste of you, to the feel of your thighs on the sides of his skull.

And his cock was not a sight to be forgotten anytime soon; thick and throbbing with obvious want, glowing the same dangerous, blood red that his tongue and eye carried – and helplessly slick with his precum as he furiously pumped.

A growl beneath you snaps your head back down to his gaze; probably torn between loving the sight of you staring at his cock with such rapt attention, but also not being able to see your expressions while you did so.

His tongue had frozen in it’s movements, something which your body was not best pleased with; you whine desperately as your body spasms beyond your control, your hips jerking against his stilled appendage. But while you inwardly wince, waiting for another growl, you only receive what could only be described as a keening moan from him, sockets closing, brow-bones drawing together for the briefest of moments as he revelled in the sensation; before you moaned with him as his tongue once again began to explore your most sensitive area.

And he continues to do so, dragging that hot, wet tongue up and down with such deliberate movements it had your thighs shaking in seconds, the coil in your lower stomach tightening steadily, the beautiful slow building pressure bringing tears to your eyes.

But just as you started to reach that point of no return, that muscle twitch that would send you into a delicious downward spiral, Sans began to worm that almost scaldingly hot tongue inside you.

The surprised, loud moan that leaves you is nothing short of erotic in sound; and it seems it surprises Sans as well, for a moment – before a dark chuckle leaves him and he begins to shove his tongue in deeper, deeper….until he finally reached that sweet spot inside you. The tip of his tongue flicked against it, testing the waters; and when your muscles spasmed, he growled, continuing the ministration, over and over, making you tighter, tighter -

\- it was almost as if you could hear him, _demanding_ you to cum.

You tip your head back with a scream as your walls spasm and clench around his appendage; he groans, long and loud, bucking his hips as he cums with you – at least, you assume he does, taking into account the sensation of hot liquid splashing against your still clothed back.

But even though his phalanges are shaking against your thighs, he guides you through your orgasm with expert precision, leaving you a quaking, shivering mess as you reach that point of overstimulation; his tongue ceases at last, huffing breaths leaving him.

You go to get off of him, receiving a soft growl in reaction.

“...give me a minute.”

You comply easily, your body sagging with fatigue – it had been the hardest orgasm of your life, and your body just...ached, oh so wonderfully, and sleep just sounded-

“...ok pumpkin. ok.”

You realise dully that he’d moved you, ever so softly, off his face, and had tucked himself around you, phalanges moving carefully, tenderly, through your hair.

You shifted slightly in his hold, tipping your head up to look up at him. And for a long moment, that’s how you stay, simply basking in one another’s presence. Eventually, he spoke, gravelly voice breaking the silence, even if his tone was far softer than you’d ever heard it.

“...are you still...put off?”

You frowned, brow puckering sleepily; before you reached up to his face, allowing your fingertips to ghost around the edges of the gaping hole in his skull – his expression remained impassive as you did so, clearly not in any kind of pain.

“I’m not put off. Not in the least.”

An oddly relieved smile breaks out across his face. _Ah._ This is what you loved, these kinds of moments with him; a real, true smile. A little crooked still, but yours, and yours alone.

“...you’re wonderful, Sans.”

His sockets widened slightly at your words, an incredulous chuckle leaving him as he pulls you in close to his chest.

  


“….you really are something….aren’t you.”


End file.
